The Rat's Head

I arrived at my backdoor last night to find this resting on my doormat.

Yes, it's a rat's head.

Sorry. I know it's gross. You can imagine how I felt upon finding it resting in front my back door. I picked up the doormat and shook it. The rat's head flashed its bloody neck stump as it rolled onto the pavement of my porch. I haven't had the stomach to get a broom and sweep it into the vegetation nearby.













Here is the elusive Miss Kitty, aka Killer. She's the feral mother of my cat Lucy, and I feed her evening and mornng on my back porch. I have no proof, but I believe the rat's head is a gift from her. Several years ago, before Miss Kitty was born, I fed her mother, Zoe, on a regular basis. I never managed to get Zoe spayed; she was too wild to tame, and I had yet to rent a cat trap. One day she brought her nearly weaned kittens, one of whom was Miss Kitty, to me, presenting them as if to say - now what? I responded by putting out more food. The kittens ate hungrily as their mother watched.

After work the following day, I came home to find the head of a snake on my doormat. It was a good two inches long, still silvery and scaly.

So you see, this gory gift giving runs in the family. My Lucy comes from a line of fearsome female hunters. Rodents, birds, and their ilk should be grateful that I keep her safely indoors. If this keeps up, who knows what sort of head will show up on my doormat next? Coyotes beware.